A Whole New World
by sunne
Summary: Secluded as a child, Madeline finds out who she really is. Written for Round 9 of the QLFC.


**Author's Note:** This is written for Round 9 of the QLFC. I am the Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons. My prompt is: The Hunchback of Notre Dame

A Whole New World

Mary Ellen sat on the edge of her bed, twisting her hands. She glanced at the door, her heart pounding, and strained her ears to listen for footsteps. Her fingers ached to hold her wand, and she cursed herself for letting him take it. She was a fool—a damned fool with no way out of her present situation because she had trusted a man she had thought loved her.

In the crib to her left, her daughter fussed. She stood and went to the little girl, reaching down and brushing her fingers along soft skin. Baby skin, she thought, and her heart was filled with such a flood of emotion that it was painful. Wiggling her hands beneath the baby's body, she picked her up, cooing softly.

Heavy footsteps sounded from out in the hallway, followed by a pair of softer ones. Mary Ellen's head snapped around, and she held her baby close to her. She backed up until the wall was behind her as a key opened the bedroom door. Her husband entered—a tall, thin man with a severe look on his face—followed by another man: a priest.

"Give Madeline to me." Her husband held out his arms.

Mary Ellen shook her head. "Please. Don't do this, Charles."

Charles nodded at the priest. The priest, head shaved and eyes narrowed, wrapped his hands around Madeline's body. Mary Ellen tried to push the man away. Her daughter fussed and began to cry. The priest, not swayed by Mary Ellen's protests, reached in again and took the child.

"No!" She lunged at the priest, screaming. Charles pulled her away.

"You are a sister of God," the priest said. "God will cast intolerance upon witches. You will be judged." He turned and headed out the door, Madeline in his arms.

Mary Ellen threw a punch, connecting with her husband's abdomen. He grunted and shoved her against the wall. She kept her eyes on the priest as he walked down the hallway. Madeline's cries turned to wails. She was sure her daughter was scared, and the notion created sharp jabs of pain in Mary Ellen's stomach.

She pounded her fists against Charles' chest. "You can't do this!"

"Witchcraft is an abomination; you are an abomination in God's eyes," he said, releasing his hold but keeping his eyes trained on his wife. "My daughter will be raised in the church."

Taking the opportunity, Mary Ellen thrust her knee upwards, connecting with his groin. Charles dropped to his knees, and she made for the door. However, her escape was cut short as a hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged. Thrown off balance, she fell, and her head slammed against the corner of the dresser.

Like a light, she was gone.

oOo

20 Years Later

Madeline decided she loved London. Technically, she loved anywhere that wasn't the church where she was raised. She had always felt a lack of kinship with God that Father Frederick said she should have; he always told her that she was a daughter of God, but she struggled to connect with the higher power the people in her life worshiped.

"Mads!"

She turned to the young man walking down Charing Cross Road. "I'll be just a minute, Henry."

"We're all meeting at the hotel," he said. "Aren't you coming?"

Her church group had made a brief stop in London on their way to Africa for another mission trip. The mission trips were one of the few things she loved in life. Helping people and making their lives better seemed to be her calling; it made her feel like she had a purpose—like her life had meaning.

"I wanted to look in here for a moment." She gestured to the door in front of her.

Henry screwed up his face. "What do you want to look at an old abandoned shop for?"

"It's not abandoned." She glanced at the door, her hand pressing lightly against the wood. She could hear people inside. "It's a pub or something."

"You're acting barmy again," he said, running a critical eye over her face. "I'll tell Father Frederick."

"You will not."

"Will too," he said, folding his arms.

Madeline sighed and dropped her hand. "If you do, I'll tell him what you've been doing when you claim to be studying." She arched an eyebrow, wiggling them suggestively.

Henry pressed his lips together and glowered at her. "You promised," he said.

"Yes, well, it was fun while it lasted, but now it serves as good blackmail material," she said. "Now, you go back to the hotel, and tell Father that I'll be along in ten minutes."

"And what am I supposed to tell him when he asks where you are?"

Madeline shrugged. "You'll come up with something." She grinned at him. "You're good at that."

"Fine." He sighed and threw up his hands.

Satisfied, she watched him turn and walk away before pushing the door open. The moment she stepped into the pub, she knew she was somewhere she shouldn't be. It was the way heads turned as she closed the door behind her, the way conversations closest to the door stopped as she took a few steps forward. It was, in fact, a pub, and a crowded one at that. It was filled with people dressed in funny outfits, and Madeline wondered exactly where she'd ended up.

The people at the table closest to her spoke in hushed tones but she distinctly heard the word, "Muggle," several times. Her palms began to turn clammy, and sweat trickled down her back. This was a mistake. She should have never opened the door. Just as she was about to turn and run out the door, a woman with lots of brown hair approached her.

"Hello," she said. "I think you've gotten lost."

"Uh, yeah, I think so," Madeline said, her eyes traveling from face to face in the pub. She caught a man in the back corner tapping a stick of wood against his plate. The woman across from him smacked his hand, and he stopped.

The woman with the brown hair had a kind smile. "Well, let's just get you back to where you need to be," she said, taking Madeline by the shoulders.

A door on the other side of the room opened, and a woman exited. Three plates floated behind her in midair, and she had two tankards in each hand. Tingles ran up Madeline's spine, and she found it hard to breathe. _The plates were floating_. Her fingers began to buzz, and at the table beside her, a glass exploded. The people at the table shouted and stood up.

"Oh boy," the brunette said, her eyes wide. She glanced at the rest of the people in the pub and took Madeline by the arm. "I think you should come with me."

oOo

Madeline paced from one end of the room to the other. The woman had taken her upstairs and introduced herself as Hermione Weasley. Pulling a stick out of her sleeve, she then did the impossible. A silvery otter spilled from the stick, and Hermione spoke to it before the otter leapt through the wall.

"You're telling me that magic is real?" Madeline asked, spellbound.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I know it's hard to believe, at first. Trust me, I've been where you are now. I'm a Muggleborn. I grew up as a Muggle."

Madeline stopped at the window, looking down at a long street lined with dozens of shops. "Muggle? What does that mean?"

"A Muggle is someone with no magic." Hermione sat down on the bed. "You are a witch. You have magic. There's a whole other world that's been hidden from you until now."

Glancing at the woman, Madeline shook her head. It was impossible. Magic was in the movies and books Father Frederick never wanted them to watch or read. "I don't—I can't…"

"Would you like to try again?" Hermione held her wand out.

When Madeline had held Hermione's wand, the stick had buzzed in her hand like static. It had been uncomfortable, but the brown-haired woman had said it meant she was a witch.

She shook her head. "No, thanks."

A knock sounded at the door and Hermione stood and opened it. A severe-looking older woman stood in the doorway. She stared at Madeline.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Madeline, this is Professor McGonagall. She's the headmistress at Hogwarts, Britain's most prestigious magical school."

Professor McGonagall shook her head and placed a hand over her heart. "What was your mother's name?"

Madeline took a step away from the headmistress. "My mother?"

"Her name wasn't Mary Ellen Ritz, was it?"

"Ritz was her maiden name, I think."

Father Frederick had kept Madeline's mother's identity from her as a child, but as she grew older, she wanted to know who her mother was. When Madeline wanted something, she did all she could to get it. One night, she had snuck into his office where she spent half the night combing through his files. It was where she had learned who her mother was, and that she had died.

"I don't believe it," she said. She approached Madeline, placing her hands on the young woman's shoulders. "Your mother was a dear friend of mine, and you look just like her."

Madeline looked between the two women. She thought back to all the strange things that had happened to her as a child, strange things that Father Frederick had explained was God's will casting torment down upon her for her sins. But it wasn't God's will; it was magic. Had she finally found somewhere where she belonged?


End file.
